I'll Be There
by xx paint you wings
Summary: When Ryan struggles in gym class, what can Troy Bolton do but help? Friendship/pre-slash Tryan.


**This was inspired by a conversation jazzsquare14 and I had, about Troy and Ryan in gym class together. Originally posted just on my tumblr, but I figured I'd post it here too for anyone who wants to see it.**

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Troy observed from across the gym as Ryan Evans struggled to make a lay-up. The smaller boy was too short to really reach the basket, and his agility and dancing prowess really did nothing to help his technique.

Troy noticed his father watching from the side, a look of displeasure etched into his face. Coach Bolton had insisted that nobody could leave the gym until everyone had done at least one successful lay-up, and most of the class was impatiently watching Ryan make his tenth attempt.

"Come on, Evans," Chad Danforth groaned, crossing his arms testily.

Troy glanced around the gym to see other students whispering in irritated tones to one another. "You suck!" called one of the boys.

"Hey, now," Troy scolded, glaring in the direction of of the voice.

He moved to where his father was standing, and said quietly, "just let him go."

The gym teacher furrowed his brows at Troy, but when a call of "Boo!" Rang across the gym again, he sighed and nodded. "Okay, guys," Jack Bolton yelled, "You can go get changed now."

Troy watched as the other boys headed for the locker rooms, grumbling about the delay. Ryan's shoulders slumped as he trailed behind the group.

Making up his mind, Troy strode over to Ryan, keeping in step with the petite boy. "Hey," he announced his presence, clapping a hand on Ryan's shoulder.

Ryan looked startled, flinching away from the touch, before he recognized Troy and relaxed. "Oh, hey Troy," he replied. "Sorry I held up the class. I… really wish gym wasn't a required course." He admitted with a nervous laugh.

"Hey, man," Troy consoled, "it's totally fine. I'm not mad at you; gym just isn't your specialty, I guess. But you're really good at a lot of other things! Like dancing, and singing, and stuff. I'm not half as good as you at that."

Ryan's mouth quirked up into a small smile, making Troy's grin widen in response. "Don't short change yourself, Troy," the blonde said. "You're really good."

Troy flushed slightly, genuinely touched by the compliment. "Thanks, Ry. And, uh. You know, I could always help you work on your lay-ups and stuff."

"Really?" Ryan asked, glancing up at Troy as if he didn't believe it.

The basketball player grinned back. "Really. Hey, if you don't have anywhere to be, I could stick around and help you right now!"

Ryan nodded, smiling. "Sharpay wants me the rehearse with her at five, but I'm free until then. If you are, I mean."

Troy nodded back, still grinning. "I'm all yours," he answered.

The blond boy's cheeks reddened at the statement. Needing no further acknowledgement, Troy steered his friend back into the middle of the gym. He grabbed a stray basketball and placed it in the other boy's hands.

"Now, this is the way you hold the ball," Troy instructed patiently, placing his hands over Ryan's and moving them to where they needed to be. "Bend your knees a little, one leg in front of the other." As he spoke, Troy moved his hands to Ryan's thighs, positioning the boy to make a lay-up. He stepped back a little, noticing how cold he suddenly felt, saying, "Now, just spring up and toss the ball into the net."

Ryan did as he was instructed, watching in awe as the basketball flew in a smooth arc into the basket. When the ball hit the floor below the net, he spun to face Troy, grinning widely. "I did it!" He cheered, bouncing a little.

The other boy's excitement was contagious, Troy found, as he laughed. "You did it."

"Thank you so, so much," Ryan said gratefully. "I can't promise I won't have forgotten by tomorrow, but at least I kind of have an idea. Hopefully I won't totally humiliate myself again."

"It's no problem," Troy replied. "We're friends. I'll be available if you need more help."

Ryan's mouth twisted into a frown. "Still, I wish I could repay you somehow."

An idea sparked in Troy's mind. "Well," he began, "you're really good at dancing, right?"

Ryan's brows furrowed, not seeing where Troy was going. "I wouldn't say I was really good, but I do know a thing or two."

"There's an opening for the team mascot," Troy said. "Our usual guy quit a while ago, said he was getting too behind in school. Maybe you could be the team mascot? If you want to, that is."

Ryan's eyes widened. "Team mascot? Really? Are you sure you would want me," he gestured at his outfit, "to be a part of the team?"

Troy reassured him, "Totally, man. And if any of the guys try anything, I'll stop them."

Ryan smiled a little, flushing. "Okay, then. I'll do it, for you."

"Thanks, man," Troy said, pulling the smaller boy in for a hug. Ryan stood stiffly at first, but soon melted into the embrace, patting the athlete on the back.

Troy felt a little disappointed when, a second later, Ryan pulled away. "I should get going now," the performer explained apologetically.

"Oh, yeah. Don't let me keep you - I don't want to be responsible for Sharpay taking her wrath out on you," Troy said, shuddering involuntarily.

Ryan smiled shyly at him. "See you tomorrow, then, I guess."

Troy grinned back, waving as the other boy walked towards the door. "See you! And don't forget my offer."

"I won't," Ryan promised as he left, leaving Troy standing in the gym, still smiling a little. Ryan certainly was… Something. Something that Troy found himself really wanting to get to know better.


End file.
